


Nek

by Militia



Series: Star Wars Smut [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: M/M, Neck Stimulation, Smut, Touch-Starved, neck kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Militia/pseuds/Militia
Summary: Corins tumbles across Din cleaning his armour. Hijinks ensue....
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Star Wars Smut [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987285
Comments: 36
Kudos: 136





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Might do a second chapter at some point.. idk yet.

Corin stared. He couldn’t help it.

He’d been frozen at the still half open door to their room for a solid few minutes by this point, staring at the expanse of golden skin available for viewing in front of him. Oblivious, Din continued cleaning and polishing his armour, weapons laid out on the floor in front of him to be worked on next. One leg propped up, the other laid out in front of him, back leaning against the bed.

He swallowed heavily when the silver helm tilted, exposing even more of that delicious skin.

His eyes were starting to sting a bit, not closing often enough to be entirely happy with the situation. He couldn’t find the brain power, or focus, to care. Even Din’s under armour was laid out on the bed behind his head. All he was left in, was a loose, form-fitting undershirt, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow.  
The top had been loosened, and opened, to expose his neck, and his chest, at least down to his collarbones.  
Corin drank in the sight, slowly coming back to a form of conscious thinking.

He, should probably go? Right? Not continue staring, at the very least.  
When he took a step back, floorboard creaking beneath his feet, Din turned to face him with yet another head tilt. Oh, that has some… interesting results.  
His head leaned back against the bed, and now Corin struggled to focus on his visor. It was a hard task when the long column of his throat was right there, perfectly in view in the room’s warm light.  
He could hear the smile in Din’s voice when he spoke. Some small part of him was still shocked every time Din seemed so enthused to see him.  
“Hi, was wondering where you were.”

He forced himself to shake his head, showing his thoughts back to the corner they belonged, and gave him a small smile in return.  
“Got a bit caught up.”  
He hoped Din didn’t notice the slight breathless quality to his voice.

The ripple of muscle beneath his shirt as he shifted to face Corin a bit more fully had him swallowing again, forcing his eyes to dart back up to that visor. He hoped Din hadn’t noticed.

A head tilt. He’d noticed.  
A hum sounding, reverberating from under the helm, easily audible in the quiet of the room. The deep sound of it sent a flash of heat through Corin’s gut.  
Then he turned back to the cauldron in his hands, and continued polishing it.

Tense, not entirely certain what he should do, Corin hesitated in the doorway for another moment, before making his decision.   
He walked up to Din, planning on sitting beside him on the ground.  
Before he lowered himself, he paused. Looked at the inviting bed, at Din leaning against it, relaxed.

He swung a leg around Din’s shoulders, and sat behind him, leg on either side of his broad shoulders. He felt those muscles tense and rise up a bit, as Din continued to focus on the metal in his hands. Leaning forward, Corin noted that the piece seemed like it was already clean. Din didn’t stop wiping though.  
With a hum of his own, he draped himself forward, elbows on his knees, hooked over the tops of Din’s shoulders. He felt the cool of the beskar through the thin material of his shirt. He also felt the small tremor that went through Din’s shoulders when his hands accidentally brushed past his neck.

His fingers lazily traced the cloth of Din’s shirt, in and around his mostly covered collarbone. Broad shoulders shifted against the undersides of his thighs. With a small grin, he kept tracing small patterns into the fabric as Din re-polished an area he’d just finished.   
He leaned down, lips brushing against metal beside the corner of his visor.  
“I think that pauldron’s done.”

He smirked when Din fumbled a bit putting the piece down, picking up his other pauldron. From the looks of it, it was the last piece of his armour to be polished before he got started on his weapons.  
His thumb brushed over warm skin, and Din sucked in a breath, sharp enough to cause mild static through his modulator.  
He started rolling the fabric between his thumb and fingers, lifted just above the skin beneath, as Din got started wiping and scrubbing at the metal in his own hands. Ungloved. Huh, Corin hadn’t noticed that.  
His other hand reached forward, sliding across the fabric over the top of Din’s chest. He saw a bit of a stumble in Din’s movements, another shuffle and tensing of his shoulders.

He propped his chin on top of the metal of the silver helm beneath him. Din’s head tilted forward easily against the added weight, hands pausing in their movement. The helmet slid against his skin as his head turned, as if to look up toward him, without being able to.  
“You planning to move?”

Settling on answering with a hum, Din sighed beneath him, as he turned his head back forward, and continued polishing the beskar. Then one of Corin’s hands reached forward, and curled up on his chest, underneath his shirt. He didn’t need to listen this time. Corin could feel the sharp breath that pushed through Din’s chest. He stroked at the skin with a thumb as his hand stilled.

Just as Din got back to work, his other hand curled lightly against the side of his neck. He felt the movement as Din swallowed. His fingers twirled slowly and softly against the skin. Din shifted beneath him again, another minute tremble making its way through his shoulders and chest.

He added just a bit more pressure to the side of Din’s neck, lifting the weight of his head off of Din’s, and felt it tilt easily to the side, another shudder making its way through his neck and chest. He continued to trace small lines and patterns with his fingers.  
Din was no longer making any attempts at cleaning the pauldron, fingers clenching and flexing against the metal, and into the rag he’d been using. Using light pressure, Corin scratched lightly at the skin with his nails. The smallest of jerks in response.   
Another hum. Then he slowly tilted, and rested his head against the side of Din’s, watching as he drew random patterns against the golden skin beneath his hand.

As he let out a breath, he saw goosebumps ripple across Din’s skin, as another tremor wracked through him.  
His head tilted even further to the side, now resting heavily against Corins knee.

His breathing had gotten heavier, chest rising and falling at an increased pace under Corins hand.

Corin leaned forward, and pressed his lips to a bit of skin just above his thumb. Din made a strangled sound, one hand coming up to clutch at the wrist leading beneath his shirt. There was a small thud as his other hand clutched at the pant of Corin’s leg, when Corin opened his mouth and gave a small lick.  
Emboldened, he sucked and licked at the side of neck available to him, enjoying all the small sounds, and twists and squirms award with his every move.

His teeth scraped lightly against the skin, and below him, Din’s entire body gave a twisted jerk. A small cry bit off quickly, and his chest heaved beneath him.   
Opening his eyes, Corin repeated the action, this time watching as Din’s hips jerked up, lifting off the ground ever so slightly, and felt his back arch up underneath him.

Lifting away from the skin, he smirked at the small whimper that escaped Din at the loss of contact. Then, rather than continue resting and holding Din’s head against his leg, his hand gripped tighter to make a loose hold, and pulled Din’s head the other way. Swinging easily, now resting against his other leg, Corin leaned forward and nuzzled at the other side of his neck.

The beskar pushed heavier against his knee, as another shudder wracked through the muscle beneath him. Corin lead Dins hand, off his wrist, to wrap around his leg, where it gripped tight. Then pressed another kiss to the side of his throat.

Immediately, he began to nibble and suck, trying to leave a mark on as much of the tan below his mouth as he could. A loud groan rumbled from beneath the silver helmet, as Din stretched his neck even further.  
Biting down lightly, he felt it when Din jerked again, harshly, hands clamping down firmly on each leg as he twisted beneath him.  
Hand still gripping onto the side of his neck, his free one reached in front, gripping beneath Din’s chin and tilting it where he wanted it. Pliant beneath his hands, heavy pants ripping through his modulator, Din continued letting out low groans and moans as Corin worked.

Chest heaving, back arched, neck stretched to give Corin as much room as possible, he watched as Din quickly fell apart beneath his hands.  
“Corin,” he moaned, hips jerking uselessly against the ground.

His own breath becoming shaky and quick with the euphoria of seeing the bounty hunter like this, Corin couldn’t quite keep his eyes closed. Eyes half-lidded to give him as much view as it could of Din falling to pieces.  
It was intoxicating.

Fingers starting to grip and scrabbled against Corin’s calves, legs kicking, hips jerking and twisting as he writhed beneath him, Din panted, breath heaving heavily through the quiet room, accompanied by a chorus of moans and strangled vowels.  
A boot hit something, sending it flying across the floor with muffled scrapes.

He lifted his lips off the skin beneath them for a moment to admire his handiwork.  
“Do you think you could come, just like this?” Corin murmured quietly. Din’s head twisted against his leg.  
“Without anything else, just from me,” he pressed a firm kiss to his neck, “on your neck?”

A strangled gasp. Corin’s fingers dug into his throat slightly, turning his helmet so he could look into the visor with a cocked brow.  
“Yes,” Din choked off. “Please, yes-“  
Ducking back, he scraped more teeth against his skin, and felt the hard beskar fly back harshly against his thigh and arm.

“G-gedet’ye cy’are,” he stuttered, losing his voice in a strangled moan as Corin sucked and nipped a bit harder against the tensed tendon of his throat.  
Licking and kissing along, he felt Dins hips lift, entire body tensing and contorting when he bit down once more, at the conjunction between his neck and shoulder.  
Ignoring his own throbbing arousal, the heat pooled firmly in his gut, he held Din as he slowly unwound, sagging against him, head lolling against his leg with short pants.

Slowly, Din caught his breath, fingers stroking through the fabric of Corins pants, against the king beneath.  
“Good?” Corin asked, hand resting against his shoulder, thumb stroking the sleeve softly.  
Din hummed in reply. He could just imagine the sleepy look he might have, half-lidded eyes.  
He clapped lightly on his shoulder.  
“Come on, clean up time.”

A bone deep sigh, before Din’s weight rolled forward, wiggling out from under his legs. Instead of leaving, he turned and straddled Corins lap, weight coming down to rest against his arousal, and giving him some delicious friction. With a groan, Corin’s head dropped to land heavily against Din’s chest. He felt the rumble as Din spoke.  
“Need a hand with that first?”


	2. Chapter 2

Feeling Corin’s warm weight under his thighs, arousal pressed against him, Din felt his own begin to stir again. Still light headed from his high, basking in a post-orgasmic bliss, he could feel heat pool in his stomach all over again as Corins hands ran up and down his sides, one going under his hips, pulling him forward, the other going back up under his shirt.   
Shuddering at the sensation of his hand on the bare skin of his back, Din bit back a moan as his hips rocked forward, feeling himself already starting to get hard once more.   
His hands rose up, one gripping onto a broad shoulder, stretching out and clenching into the fabric there, while the other reached further to grip onto soft strands of hair.

With a shaky breath, his head tilting up slightly, he startled when he felt a warm heat attach once more to the base of his neck.  
He felt like he was on fire, Corins hand on his back, his lips on his throat, leaving blazing trails behind them. He was already trembling, still feeling the after effects of over-stimulation on the sensitive skin as Corin retraced paths’ and created new ones. His hips twitched against Corin’s as Din moaned.  
“Corin, I-I’m not going to last if you keep-“ panting breaths broke through the words, a particularly rough nip causing him to lose his focus, as his words cut off between breaths into a strangled groan.  
He could feel something coiling up tighter in him, like a spring ready to burst, again.

Then Corin pulled back. Head still unfocussed, brain not quite concentrating, Din still admired the glassy eyes, swollen lips and the blue of his eyes as he looked up at him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the sight, treasuring every moment, even through the lusty haze.

Opened mouthed, breathing heavily, Corin smirked up at him. Din felt another tremble go through him, and the smirk widened, a hand running back down his back, settling on his hip, still in contact with Din’s skin.  
The heat in his gut strengthened, spreading, as he looked at his cy’ares expression.

With a sudden surge of desperation, his fingers pulled at Corins shirt, scrambling to pull it off. With a huffed laugh, Corin quickly drew his hands up, Din pushed past his whimper at the loss of skin contact, and quickly shed and threw the clothing off to the side. Before Din could touch, fingers itching with the need to spread over his warmth, Corin tugged at the loose front of Din’s shirt, cocking a brow.

Leaning back, giving himself room to tug his shirt off over his head, he lost concentration for a moment when he felt hands trace his muscles, as they became exposed to the open air. He fumbled pulling it over his helm when he felt a mouth kiss and lick its way along his pec.

Ripping the fabric off, flinging it to the side, he was immediately overwhelmed as Corin began to nip and suck his way along the muscles of Din’s chest. Reaching up to grip once more at his head, helm pushing lightly against the top of his curls, Din groaned, eyes slipping shut as Corin continued.  
Hands traced over his hips, back and thighs, leaving a trail of heat as they went. Kneading into his lower back and the tops of his thighs, Din shuddered gains the different sensations. The weight of Corins grip was the only thing keeping him grounded, breath stuttering in his chest, hips rocking and twitching against Corins own.

A sudden pull, as both of Corin’s hands gripped his hips and brought him into to grind, lifting his own hips up to meet Din’s, head tilting on his chest as he breathed heavily. The air tickled against Din’s skin, making him huff out breathless laughter, even as he panted and moaned against the onslaught of his senses.

Whimpers caught between each breath, the heat in his gut coiling tighter and tighter as their rutting grew more erratic.   
He came with a cry when Corin bit down, scraping teeth over skin. His vision whited out, brain coming to a stand still as his second orgasm ripped through him. Underneath him, he was vaguely aware of Corin murmuring to him, coming down from his own high, tension leeching out of his own shoulders as he sagged against Din, arms looping around his back, and pulling him close.  
Blinking his eyes open, he stroked Corins hair with shaky fingers, tilting him up to meet him in a kov’nyn.  
“Ner karta,” he whispered, breathless.  
“Kar'taylir darasuum gar.”

They sat there, simply soaking up each other’s presence, before Corin nudged Din’s head with his own. He startled slightly. He hadn’t realised he’d started to doze off where he was sat.

“C’mon kar’ta, we should get cleaned up,” Corin murmured to him, eyes still closed, forehead still pressed against his helm.  
With a low groan, Din reluctantly pulled back, standing on wobbly legs, before Corin joined him, and they went to the refresher to clean themselves up.


End file.
